Wednesday 13 February

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I haven’t seen Him since Sunday. He seems to have been skipping Math. This is a Good Thing. No X rated texts either. Maybe he has had his fun and has discarded me. I can pose like a spurned and ruined woman in a Victorian novel. Lock myself away, never to be with a man again.

I am relieved, I suppose. The guilt and constant stress was killing me. I am still expecting him to expose and ridicule me. Every morning, as I walk up to those steps I expect comments and looks and laughter following me, and there is no relief when it doesn’t happen because I am convinced it WILL happen. It would be better to have it happen now rather than have the constant stress of waiting for it. And the worst of it is, not being able to understand my own actions. He is behaving how he is programmed to behave, selfishly and demandingly like any Alpha Male worth his salt. But my behaviour has not been so excusable. Why have I given in twice? Once, is maybe excusable but twice? Am I some kind of masochist? I thought I had more self-respect.

Poor Stu. He has no idea what is going on with me and hopefully, he never will. I shudder to imagine his response if he ever found out. Me cavorting with his chief tormentor. It will put him in therapy for life. I was supposed to be defending him, making things better and I do nothing except make a whole lot of trouble for myself.

Dad wanted me to show him how to use Garageband tonight but I couldn’t face such an innocent father/daughter bonding session with all the confusion in my head. If he could see what I can see when I close my eyes he would die a thousand deaths.

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